Chelsea McBride’s Socialist Night School – “The Twilight Fall”

If you’ve been to a gig, you’ve heard me tell this story, but it goes like this:

Picture your six-year-old-self, in onesie pajamas, falling through a purple sky with orange clouds, until you land in the middle of a carnival. It appears to be deserted – until you approach the carousel, that is, and grey translucent spirits begin to swirl around your head.